


a matter of faith

by CinderScoria



Series: Endgame [4]
Category: Escape the Night (Web Series)
Genre: Daniel deserves better than this tbh, M/M, SAE backstory shit, so does Joey, this is sadder than I intended it to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-07-26 00:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20034496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinderScoria/pseuds/CinderScoria
Summary: Daniel Preda and the cost of being the love interest.a (rather important) sidestory





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> small disclaimer that I don't know any of these characters I played with very well, never mind Daniel lmao, but I did my best!

Daniel’s a good person. He tries to be a good boyfriend. He smiles when Joey tells him, blue eyes lit all up like a hearth, that he’s inherited this house from some relative he’s never heard of. He lets him grab him by the hands and jump up and down. They throw a small party to celebrate and Daniel absolutely does  _ not _ say that this is sketch as fuck, not where he normally would.

Because Joey is so happy, and he’s just recovering from being sick  _ again, _ and Daniel is a damn good boyfriend. Even when he’s told that this place is in Northern California, far from LA where they make their livelihood. Even when Joey tells him that he’ll be moving in right away, but Daniel has to stay at their current house per contract to receive the deed. Even when, over the course of a few weeks, he sees very little of his boyfriend and hears from him even less than that.

No, he doesn’t say anything. But he does Google the property. He does get blocked, and buckles down to figure out just what the hell happened to the previous owner. And the owner before that. And the owner before that.

Dead. All dead. And the ones that aren’t are missing in action.

He calls Joey. Leaves messages that get more and more snippy the more panicked he gets. He tries to go there and isn’t even let through the gate. Something about not being dressed for the time period. He paces and rages and rattles the gate and he goes home and decides whether he wants to file a police report or not. Joey’s still posting to social media, nothing  _ seems _ to be wrong. But it feels wrong.

And Daniel is not helpless by any means. He throws himself into the research, piecing together as many reports as he can find. He tells his followers he’s taking a hiatus. He still tries to reach Joey. He doesn’t open the door to strangers.

He opens it to Shane Dawson, though.

It’s… probably a mistake, if the needle in his neck is anything to go by.

** **-** **

Daniel wakes in a circular room, in a luxurious bed that isn’t his own, to Shane Dawson thumbing through Twitter on his phone.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe,” is the first thing he says, which doesn’t really make Daniel  _ feel _ safe, especially since his mouth tastes like cotton and he’s having a hard time focusing. “Did you drug me?” he accuses, the words thick on his tongue.

Shane winces. “Yyyyes, but in my defense, this is procedure.”

“For  _ what?” _

“The Society Against Evil.” He gives him a smarmy grin that feels entirely inappropriate for the occasion. “Welcome to home base.”

“What the fuck is going on,” Daniel says flatly.

The other Youtuber’s face closes, getting down to business. “We have reason to believe Joey’s been taken over, possibly under the influence of the Cursed God, an ancient evil trying to break out of its cage we locked it in centuries ago.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Magic exists, Daniel,” he says, voice overly patient and serious. “I’m part of a group that prevents bad people from using it for evil.”

Daniel stares at him for a long time, trying to wrap his head around this. “Shane,” he says finally, with controlled calm, “where am I?”

“East of Los Angeles,” Shane supplies. “Our West Coast branch, which is, coincidentally, headquarters for the SAE.”

“That’s a stupid name.”

“I know,” Shane says with a laugh, “but it’s exactly what it says on the tin, eh?”

“I guess so,” he says, though he isn’t really sure, and it seeps into his voice. “So… someone evil has taken Joey?”

“Kind of.”

Daniel grinds his teeth. “Can you please just give me a straight answer?”

Shane scoffs. “No?”

_ “Shane.” _

“The house did.”

Daniel raises his eyebrows at Shane, waiting for the punchline. It takes him an uncomfortably long time to get that there isn’t one coming. “The house,” he repeats flatly.

“Yep.”

“The house is evil?”

“Yep.”

“And it has Joey.”

Shane sighs. “Yep.”

“This is too much.” Daniel shakes his head. “There’s no such thing as—”

A bright green glowing forcefield divides the room, separating him on the bed from Shane, standing near the window. As the word dies on his lips, Daniel turns to see the large oak doors swinging open to allow the entrance of a young woman with ivory skin and chestnut hair that spills over one shoulder. She’s clad in a draping, light pink dress that would probably be considered evocative if Daniel wasn’t a gay man in a happy, committed relationship. She smiles at him from the other side of the translucent green shield, ignoring the way Daniel’s mouth gapes open like a fish.

Seconds later, before he can find his voice, the shield evaporates into bright white wisps, and the woman says, voice high and strangely accented, “Magic?”

Daniel sinks back onto the bed, closing his mouth. Shane rolls his eyes. The woman takes a delicate step towards him, extending a long, pale arm, fingers listless and yet immediately threatening.

“I am Iridessa,” she says.

He swallows and takes her hand. “Daniel.”

Her fingers close around his wrist, sending a shiver from the top of his head down his shoulders. Their handshake is abnormally firm, considering how dainty and frail her hand is. Iridessa’s eyes are dark blue and seem to swirl with an array of secrets he could never hope to uncover, and Daniel resists the urge to pull his hand from her grasp.

Thankfully, she releases him, still smiling benignly. Daniel tries not to skitter back a step. “Shane?”

“She’s the big boss,” he answers, giving an almost mock-bow that Iridessa ignores. “Iridessa, this is Joey’s boyfriend.”

As always, he tenses for a just a moment before she inclines her head, accepting that without question. “Lovely to meet you, Daniel. I hear you’ve been stirring up some trouble.”

Daniel narrows his eyes at her. “I’m only trying to get my boyfriend back.”

“Yes, and Shane seems to think you might be able to help us reach Joey?” It’s almost placating, patronizing, like she’s humoring him. It causes his shoulders to hunch, and Daniel has to work to lower them, remembering that this woman has magic—literal, actual magic—and his pride isn’t worth getting his ass kicked.

Shane steps in to diffuse the situation. “I’m telling you, Iridessa, I know Joey and I know how he talks and that invitation is  _ full _ of shit. It’s the Cursed God, it’s gotta be.”

She inclines her head to acknowledge him. “Well, your instincts are usually on point. I’m just not sure how you think we can use this one to aid us in defeating this round’s evil.”

As much as he hates how she put that, Daniel has to agree. “I mean, yeah, I haven’t seen him in weeks, I haven’t talked to him, I don’t even know if he’s still alive—”

“He is,” Shane interrupts, serious for once.

“How do you know?”

“Because we haven’t played the game yet.”

Daniel locks his jaw. He tries not to explode. He tries to keep his hands from trembling as he grips them in his lap and stares up at Shane and Iridessa, and his voice is pitched lower than it should be when he says, “Tell me.”

** **-** **

They try to tell him to go home after that. That they’ll call him when they need him. Daniel puts his foot down. He throws the world’s biggest bitch fit. He says  _ Shane _ is a member,  _ Shane _ is going to go get him,  _ Shane _ doesn’t know Joey like he knows Joey. Shane, for his part, looks like he’s having a hard time keeping a lid on his smugness as Iridessa paces from the window to the door, her pretty, youthful face drawn and quiet as Daniel makes his case.

“All right,” she murmurs, when he’s spent himself out. “I understand your passion, Daniel. I have a solution, but you will have to do  _ everything _ I say.”

Daniel looks at Shane. For someone always so expressive, Shane’s voice is shuttered and dark, but when they catch gazes, he nods. Daniel resolves to go along with this, anything to get to Joey, so he says, “Okay.”

But to be honest, he has zero intention of playing by the rules.

** **-** **

After that, Iridessa lets Shane show him around. “The ceremony is tonight at sundown,” she mentions as she makes her way out of the room. “If you are really sure about this, Daniel, we’ll induct you into the Society then.”

Shane watches her go with an unreadable expression etched across his face, but when he turns back to Daniel, that signature grin is back. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover,” he says, “so let’s get moving.”

There are four buildings. The one they’re in is called the bell tower, and Daniel discovers why as they reach the bottom of the spiral staircase and venture outside into the Los Angeles midwinter afternoon. It looms overhead like Daniel’s foreboding, dangerous parents, casting dark shadows across the courtyard. At its top, above the penthouse suite he’d woken up in, is an old gray bell, still and silent and melancholy.

The older Youtuber makes his way across the courtyard, pointing out the large, gorgeous cathedral on the south side of the compound, the beautiful fountain that serves as the epicenter of a cul de sac in the middle of the walled in square, and leading his way to the barracks that looks more like a library, if Daniel’s being honest.

Kitty corner, nestled up to the cathedral, is a lush green garden with flowers and vines and trees Daniel knows damn well shouldn’t be blooming in the middle of March. Directly opposite of that is a garage, and as he watches each car leave and enter when they pass he realizes that each SUV is the same make and model and color. The sight of it makes him want to recoil, but instead he says nothing, trailing behind Shane as he makes his way, hands shoved into his pockets, to the barracks building.

“Where are we going?” Daniel asks as he hurries to catch up to him.

“Iridessa's study,” Shane calls over his shoulder.

“Uh, why?”

“Because you need a much deeper look into what we’re doing.”

He takes him into the building. It features long hallways and short flights of stairs made of metal and just as cold. The deeper Daniel gets into this place, the more and more he starts to think that this used to be a fort.

“Who built this place?” he wonders aloud.

“I think at some point Iridessa had to relocate to the West Coast sometime during the Civil War,” Shane supplies, and Daniel stops short.

“The  _ Civil War?” _

“Yeah.” When Daniel doesn’t demand an explanation, Shane provides one anyway. “She’s got life magic. She’s immortal. And so am I.”

“You’re… what?”

“Yeah. Haven’t you noticed? I’ve had the same haircut for three years.”

Daniel stares at his back, and that’s the only reason he catches the sly glance Shane tosses over his shoulder. “Hair doesn’t grow when you stop aging, Danny boy.”

“Don’t call me that,” Daniel says, an automatic response. “So you’re serious then.”

“Yep. And, if  _ you’re _ serious about this, you will be too.”

“Immortal?”

“She has this chalice, Holy Grail style,” Shane explains, slowing a little to allow Daniel to sidle up next to him instead of trailing behind. “When you drink the water from it, you stop aging. Now, you can still be killed—that’s a  _ very _ important detail—but so long as the Earth keeps turning, we… stop living, basically.”

“That’s… terrifying.”

“Isn’t it?” Shane grins, sticking his hands in the pockets of his brown leather jacket. “Anyway, it’s not so bad. Like eating and sleeping. I don’t  _ have _ to eat, but I  _ can. _ Best part of the job, tbh.”

Daniel shakes his head. “And why exactly  _ did _ you take this job?”

He shrugs. “I’d found mention of the Society while doing research for a conspiracy a few years ago. They found out, one thing led to another, I get offered a job. It’s pretty cool, and not so physically demanding that I can’t still do videos. All I do, really, is find places along the leylines where the next game will occur.”

Daniel feels his heart sink. “And this one is Joey’s new house.”

“I’m like eighty percent sure, yeah,” Shane admits. “Good news is, we have time. You’ll be stationed there, on the property, integrate into the forces there. And then I’ll come along, since I’ve been invited, and tackle things on that end.” 

Time stops for a second. “Invited?”

“Yeah, I—” Shane hears what Daniel didn’t say, frowning over his shoulder at him. “Didn’t you know he’s throwing a housewarming party?”

At an absolute loss of words, Daniel just shakes his head. Hurt rips through his chest like it’s physical as he struggles to understand why Joey would leave him out of this, cut him off so thoroughly, with no intention of letting him in.

Shane watches him fall to pieces and turns around fully so he can walk backwards. His blue eyes, ice cold, are uncharacteristically soft. “Hey, Daniel. Listen. We’re gonna get him back.”

Swallowing hard, Daniel escapes answering by nudging Shane’s shoulder so that the older man turns back around.

This is a lot of information, and he isn’t nearly prepared to face all of it at the moment, to be honest.

** **-** **

“It’s beautiful,” he murmurs, gazing at the painting.

Shane hums, but he isn’t sure it’s in agreement. “Iridessa does have a flare for the dramatic.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

Shane scoffs, pressing an offended hand to his chest, but he’s grinning. “Excuse me, my style consists of stained T-shirts and basketball shorts. That isn’t  _ dramatic, _ it’s—Depression Chic. _ ” _

“I know this about you, and I hate it.”

The older man shrugs, unbothered, as Daniel studies the painting. It’s huge, almost taking up the entire wall in Iridessa’s study, and depicts a bloody battle with the woman centered in a column of green light, tiny tendrils of it reaching curled, dark monsters and vanquishing them. In front of her is a man with pale, damn near translucent white skin, hair pitch black, a curl falling to the center of his forehead and his eyes glowing an unnatural, almost neon yellow in the green of Iridessa’s magic. His teeth are bared, though it’s unclear whether it’s a grimace or a smile, as he takes Iridessa’s hand in what looks to be a rather intimate handshake.

“That’s the Cursed God,” Shane says, nodding at the man. “He’d possessed Iridessa’s husband, the Scythe. He killed them all and would’ve killed Iridessa, too, but instead they made a deal. Play a game where the points are human souls.”

Daniel shivers. “That’s horrible.”

“It gets worse,” Shane says with a grim smile. “This game has an inevitable winner. No matter how we stall, we’ll slip up eventually, and the Cursed God will be released from his prison. And when that happens, game over.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “It’s my job to find the places he sends his minions and shut it down before it gets started. I’m gonna try to get Joey out of there before that happens, okay?”

“And what do I do?”

“Well, if you’re what I think you’re gonna be, absolutely nothing.”

Daniel turns his head to look at him, lips thinning. “Excuse me?”

“Watchers are only supposed to take over in the case of an emergency,” Shane explains. “Like, if a helper somehow dies in the middle of the game. We haven’t have anything like that in a while, though. You’re just going to be there to observe. Hence the name  _ watcher.” _

“You expect me to just stand by and wait while my boyfriend plays a game where he could  _ die?” _

“I told you,” Shane says seriously, “I won’t let it get that far.”

“Then why did you want me here to try to “reach” Joey?” Daniel demands.

Shane hesitates, just long enough for Daniel to doubt the other Youtuber’s comforting confidence. Eventually he says, “Just in case.”

And maybe that shouldn’t have made Daniel feel better, maybe he should be running in the opposite direction like any normal, sane person.

But he doesn’t.

** **-** **

The water tastes metallic. Even after the first sip he feels  _ different, _ more vigorous, more full of life. He has to drink twice—there are  _ ranks, _ this technically makes him Shane’s superior and that’s kind of wild—and by the end of it he’s a watcher, and his head is buzzing, and he should be concerned about that but he isn’t.

Iridessa smiles at him. It’s a much warmer smile than before, now that he’s one of them, and Daniel finds himself smiling back.

He still doesn’t like her all that much, though.

** **-** **

Jael? Fucking terrifying.

She’d said her name when he met her but he didn’t quite understand how to pronounce it and at this point he’s too afraid to ask. The weapons specialist waits, just short of tapping her foot, as he peruses the rack. “These are all magical weapons,” she’d explained when he’d been sent to her for training. “They choose you, not the other way around.”

It all sounds like bullshit to him, but he’s not about to say that to her face. The blonde radiates an air of danger, and Daniel’s no fool. He’d much rather learn how to protect himself before even thinking of saying anything against her.

Unfortunately, he can feel her patience wearing thin as he picks up a sword, puts it down, picks up a blaster, puts that down too. There’s a long bo staff as tall as he is that he thinks might do the trick, but when he’d looked at Jael she’d shaken her head, so he had to put it back. Her partner, Ryu, has an air of faint amusement (despite the fact that his expression never changes) as he practices with his tambo, flying through a complicated kata Daniel’s only catching glimpses of and only because the weapons rack is against the mirror.

Daniel bites off a gasp as his hands close around two matching daggers, one longer than the other, and a jolt seems to run from his wrist to his chest. He looks at Jael, who nods in approval, her lips twitching into something that looks moderately less displeased than before.

“Those blades can cut through just about anything, in the right hands,” she says. “They’re yours now. Let me teach you how to use them.”

** **-** **

A month later and Shane shows up at his door, that out-of-character seriousness back in his gaze. “They’re going to be sending you out soon,” he says. “So I’m going to warn you. Iridessa’s been really on my ass lately about playing by the rules of the game, letting the chips fall where they lie, and not sending someone out early to put a stop to this before it gets going.”

Daniel feels a thrill of panic at the words. “What are you saying? We’re going to be playing the game?”

_ “We _ might have to, yeah,” Shane says, frowning deeply. “I don’t know what she’s up to, but I don’t trust it. Before I joined, they were  _ losing. _ Like, by a  _ lot. _ They’d play the game and a ton of people would die and they’d only just manage to stop the souls from being sacrificed by defeating whatever monster or minion the Cursed God had sent.”

“And you coming in stopped that?”

Shane’s frown deepens and he gives Daniel a long, hard, measuring look. Daniel’s heart clenches at a look like that, and he resists the urge to put his hand on his chest to try to ease it. He has to be strong now. He can’t be scared. “You know something,” he accuses him. “Tell me.”

“I don’t know for sure,” Shane admits, pursing his lips. “I just have a feeling. An awful feeling.”

“You think she’s doing it on purpose?”

“She has magic she shouldn’t,” he says, grinding his teeth. “Magic that isn’t limited to healing and shielding, what is typical for the Chalice.”

“Like what?”

“Telekinesis,” he says, numbering them on his fingers, “omnipresence—she can sense everything on the grounds of the fort, that’s why I met you here instead of there—imbuing her magic into physical objects, mind control—”

_ “Mind control?” _

“There are times when she just—looks at one of the others and they get up and leave to go do something.” Shane pitches his voice low. “Things I feel compelled to do even though I don’t remember having the thought to do it. And something about her has felt off ever since I met her.”

Daniel swallows. “So… you think… that she’s  _ letting _ people die?”

“In order to steal the magic from the big bad to supercharge her own, yeah.” Shane shrugs helplessly. “I don’t have any proof yet, but you noticed how she doesn’t like me, right? I think it’s ‘cause I keep catching potential game spots early, and most of us don’t know that we’re not supposed to be shutting them down before the game is actually  _ played.” _

“But—” Daniel’s mind is racing. “But Joey’s—”

“I know,” Shane says, his voice almost soothing as he reaches a hand towards him, just a little. “Listen, Daniel, I  _ know. _ That’s one of the reasons I wanted you there.”

“But I can’t interfere!”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, you and I know damn well you’re going to step in if it looks like shit might be going South.” Shane’s blue eyes blaze as he stares him down. “I’m  _ counting _ on it, Daniel.”

“I’ve only been here for a month,” Daniel protests. “I still cut myself on my own damn daggers, I don’t think I’m ready for this.”

“For Joey?” Shane turns, hand on the doorknob. “Will you do it for Joey, Daniel?”

Daniel’s heart thuds, but he doesn’t even hesitate. “Of course I will.”

“Good.” Shane opens the door and steps outside. “Because you’re his best chance. He needs you.”

He watches him go, resolve settling in his shoulders. With a heavy heart sinking ever lower, he shuts the door behind him.

** **-** **

Her name is Calliope and she’s very nice, if a little weird. “This will allow us to call you back if anything goes wrong,” she says, putting a smooth black river stone in the palm of his hand and gently closing his fingers over it.

Daniel runs his thumb over the cool granite. It certainly doesn’t feel magical.

Calliope must see the doubt in his face, because she laughs and pats his hand. “Trust me,” she says. “And don’t worry. Everything will be just fine. The stars say so.”

“Well, I can’t fuckin’ argue with the stars,” Daniel mutters under his breath.

She doesn’t hear him, turning away and leaving him standing in the middle of what the SAE calls the Launch Point for his embarking. It’s a darkened room in a corner of the barracks with no electricity, the only light coming from the solitary skylight directly over a large green crystal located in the dead center of the small room on a small altar. This is where they send their members to different time periods—and the river rock Daniel’s been given is a touchstone, what they use to monitor each game. Daniel doesn’t like that he’s going to be watched—that’s  _ his _ job, after all—but also would rather die than be stuck in the 1920s, the time period Joey’s supposedly living in at the moment.

He stares at the crystal, its many faces reflecting the early May sunshine streaming in from the skylight. It’s beautiful, and Joey would love it, and the thought forms a lump at the base of his throat he’s having trouble breathing around.

“It’s ready for you,” Calliope says, smiling so the corner of her eyes crinkle. “Good luck, child.”

He adjusts his dress and tries not to scratch at his fake beard and instead approaches the crystal with apprehension. The river rock warms in his hand as he gets closer to it, and by the time he reaches for it, the thing is almost burning in his palm.

There’s no time to say goodbye. No time to back out. No time to go over his notes again.

Wind roars in his ears, and the light engulfs every part of him, and despite himself, Daniel starts to pray.

** **-** **

He’s inducted with ease into their little carnival, which Daniel wants to question but doesn’t dare.

The Ringmaster simply tells him to do what he’s told and that the customers come first. Daniel accepts that with almost gleeful relief and quietly shuffles in with the rest of the “freaks” of the show. They’re all delightfully normal and they all lowkey hate the Ringmaster—“But ya know,” says Bubba, the juggler, “I ain’t never had a home before and I reckon this comes pretty damn close. Best family I ever had.”

The others murmur agreements and Daniel hides his face behind his beer as he takes a sip, listening to his new carnival friends dissolve into conversation. They’re good people, even the big, monstrous Sam, who looks like he could break the nearest person in two (but is the gentlest soul Daniel’s ever met).

But they’re not  _ his _ family. His family is in the house they’re traveling towards—should be there within the week—hurting and under the thumb of evil.

_ I’m coming, Joey. I swear. _

** **-** **

Daniel stands in the entrance of the house, looking around, holding his breath and trembling. It’s silent as a grave in here, no signs of life whatsoever, and his heart crashes to his toes. “Joey?” he calls tentatively, before realizing how ridiculous it would be if his boyfriend turned the corner and saw him, dressed head to toe in drag with a fake beard glued to his chin.

It doesn’t seem to matter, as there’s no answer. They’re not in here. It’s not that big of a deal—the game ends at dawn, that’s what they’ve hammered into his head, and it’s barely even ten o’clock if the grandfather clock is anything to go by—and he turns, about to head back to where the carnival is setting up, having only snuck out for a moment to see if he could spot the man he hasn’t seen in person in months.

The sight of a shoe, upright, attached to a limp leg, poking out from the couch in the sitting room catches his attention. Daniel slows, freezes. Stares at it for a long time, trying to get his pulse to slow down. He inches into the sitting room, his heart thundering in his ears, moving around the couch so he can see who the leg is attached to.

Somehow he already knows, slumping in disappointment and what is rapidly heading towards shock as he recognizes Shane’s pale, damn near ashen gray face. His eyes are closed and there’s blood on his lips, and he’s lying flat on his back with his hands folded on his chest. Next to him is someone Daniel doesn’t recognize for the first second, before he sees the Andrea Brooks in her face, eyes open, limbs stiff. Both dead. Both having died in different ways, but very, very dead.

Daniel just stands there, clutching the couch for support. His jaw trembles and he clenches it to lock it. Shane’s dead. Shane, his longtime friend Shane Dawson. How will the community react to this? Shane’s  _ beloved _ on Youtube. A legend. Andrea Brooks has a  _ twin, _ for fuck’s sake—they’re two people who are no longer people and Daniel chokes as he struggles to pull in a breath, thinking about how a week ago he’d seen Shane, alive and jovial and as big a smartass as he ever is, and now he’s dead.

And Daniel is alone.

He takes a staggered step towards the two of them, dropping to his knees. He needs—something, something to bring back, something to give to their families. Their bodies will never make it back to 2016. Not intact, anyway. But they deserve better than just being abandoned here, in the sitting room.

He’s unclasping Andrea’s necklace—it’s one he recognizes, one she’d told him had been a gift from her sister, something important—when he hears noise from outside. He stands, still clutching the necklace, looking about in a panic before rolling behind the couch.

This is a stupid hiding place, he thinks, but it’s far too late to change his mind as two men come into the house, making a beeline for the sitting room.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” says the first man, his voice English accented. “They’ll be occupied with digging for a moment, I’m sure.”

“Where do you want ‘em?” The second voice is gruff and American. There’s rustling, and huffing, and when Daniel takes a peek he sees the backs of one man hefting Shane over one shoulder, and the other one picking Andrea up bridal style.

“It doesn’t matter, the crystal will take care of them,” says the English man. “For now, let’s just put them—”

The sound of the front door closing behind them cuts their voices off. Daniel stands again, grief-stricken, still holding Andrea’s necklace. What crystal were those two talking about? Who was digging? Was it the other party-goers? Was it Joey?

He hadn’t gotten anything from Shane. Daniel swallows, his fingers shaking as he fastens the clasp of Andrea’s necklace around his own neck, touching the stones there.

“I’ll bring you back to her,” he whispers after Andrea, and Shane, too.

Then he gathers his courage and his strength about him and makes his way back to the carnival.

He’s on his own now.

** **-** **

“What’s going on?” Daniel asks Genevieve, the Ringmaster’s assistant as she rushes past him.

She bares her teeth at him—neither her nor the Ringmaster are very kind to them, but everyone seems to be losing their minds over something and she’s the first one Daniel got a hold of. “The monster’s escaped! Hurry up and help us look for him!”

She yanks her arm from his grip and storms off. Daniel watches her, hoping they never find Sam.

** **-** **

Daniel lounges in the ticket booth, bored out of his mind. They’ve been getting less and less guests as they’ve traveled closer to this place, and the ones they do have tonight have been rude and terrible to them. It’s what he hates about being a watcher, actually—this should would never fly in 2016, and he’s getting quite sick of people spitting in his face just because they can’t fathom the sight of a bearded woman.

A few more hours, though, and he’ll be able to leave and look for—

“This is  _ crazy—” _

_ Joey. _

Daniel straightens. His heart stops, stutters, picks up triple time. That’s Joey’s voice. That’s  _ Joey, _ coming towards him—his hair bleached such a pale blonde it’s almost white, in a smashing tux, eyes wide, spinning in a circle as he and five others approach, following the Ringmaster, Genevieve, and—oh no, they’ve caught Sam—

But he can’t afford to take his eyes from Joey, who looks haggard and tired but also so full of that childlike wonder Daniel’s come to love so much as he takes in their carnival.

Time freezes as his blue eyes land on Daniel. Daniel stares back, everything in him screaming  _ it’s me! Joey! It’s me! I came to get you! _

“Oh my god!” Joey says, recoiling a little in surprise as he processes Daniel’s outfit, and Daniel can already tell that he doesn’t recognize him. He closes his eyes briefly—this is a  _ good _ thing, he’s not supposed to, it’s fine—and tries to breathe around the huge ball of hurt that’s grown three sizes since seeing his boyfriend in person for the first time in months, in  _ so long _ hearing his voice live. Still alive, still Joey, despite the hair change and the obvious grief in his shoulders. Still alive, and going to stay that way if Daniel has anything to say about it.

“I’m going to need your ticket, please,” says the Ringmaster, and Joey hands Daniel a slip of paper. For a moment their fingers brush, and it takes everything in him to not grab him and run.

Joey’s staring at him expectantly.  _ Oh right—  _

“Welcome to the circus,” Daniel says, in the Bearded Lady voice he’d been using since he got here.

Joey’s smile falters a little. Something in Daniel cracks. He knows if he looks any harder he’ll see him,  _ really _ see him, and the jig will be up. He can’t blow his cover, not yet, not if he doesn’t want to be yanked back prematurely.

“Now go,” he says, biting into each word because if he doesn’t he’ll cry, and neither of them need that. Joey is pulled away by his friends—Daniel’s friends, too—and Daniel does his best to breathe as the distance between them grows again.

“I think I know her,” he hears him say behind him, and despite how much it hurts, Daniel can’t help but smile.

** **-** **

“We’ll be trying something new with the dunk tank today,” the Ringmaster says, handing Daniel two large, heavy, lidded buckets that wriggle and squirm like they’re holding something alive in them.

Daniel huffs a little as he lifts them, teetering. “What are these?”

There’s maniacal glee in the Ringmaster’s eyes as he tells him, “Piranhas! If those spunky kids want this artifact, they’ll have to give us a  _ real _ show!” He taps one of the buckets  _ hard, _ making Daniel tilt to one side. “Put these in the dunk tank—be careful now, they bite!”

As he walks away, laughing at his joke, Daniel watches him and thinks he’s the biggest asshole he’s ever met.

He sets the piranhas down behind a curtain. Rules be damned. He’s not contributing to killing his friends. He won’t fucking do it.

** **-** **

It ends up being Tim and Oli dunked, and Daniel watches from outside the tent, grinning to himself as the two come up, sopping wet but perfectly fine. The Ringmaster recovers quickly, grandly, graciously, letting the group take their soaked guests back into relative safety and giving them their artifact as well.

It’s about then, when Joey is stomping towards the tent entrance, when Daniel’s touchstone begins to heat up. He touches it, tucked into the tiny pocket he’d sewn into his dress at the hip, realizing what that means.

“Wait,” he says out loud, panicky, “wait, I’m so close—”

Too late. Wind roars in his ears, and light engulfs every part of him, and Daniel reaches for the tent flap as Joey reaches from the inside, and then he’s clutching air, back at the Launch Point, a displeased Iridessa standing in front of him.

“You are  _ not _ to interfere,” she says, voice frigid.

Daniel straightens, gripping his fists, a hurricane kicking up between his lungs. “He was  _ right there!” _ he shouts.

“You are a watcher,” Iridessa snaps, “and nothing more.”

_ “Watchers _ take over when things go south,” Daniel says, “they step in when their fellow SAE member needs help,  _ that’s _ what you said—”

“Shane’s sacrifice does not give you permission—”

_ “I don’t give a fuck about permission!” _ Daniel bellows. His voice cracks. His face is hot. Tears sting in his eyes.

Iridessa’s face closes, stone cold and official, and Daniel knows he’s lost this battle. He stomps past her, nearly tripping on his dress, past Calliope and her stricken expression and her half-raised hand like she wants to comfort him but doesn’t know how, out the door and to his car and not caring who sees him in his makeup and wig and fake ass beard and Andrea’s necklace. He drives home and collapses face first onto his bed and weeps, just sobs, thinking of how fucking close Joey had been and how now nothing and no one can save him.

He’d blown his one shot to bring him home. And there’s nothing left.

** **-** **

Two weeks, it’s two weeks of joining the other families of the missing ones and not being able to tell them he’d seen the Youtubers, spoken to them, was close enough to touch them. He can’t tell Brittany to stop hoping and start grieving, or Ryland that Shane is never coming home. He can’t, and doesn’t, say anything.

And then he gets a phone call. A police officer. Joey’s in a hospital two hours north of here. Joey’s in a hospital with Eva Gutowski and Oli White. Joey’s in a hospital and he’s asleep, but he’s alive, and Daniel doesn’t even really remember climbing into his car and pulling onto the freeway, but he does, and he’s crying, and when he gets there he’s escorted to Joey’s room—the room he shares with Eva, also in a dead sleep, also inexplicably  _ alive— _ and he cries there, too.

His tears slow by the time Joey’s eyelids peel open. He smiles, watery and tremulous, at those baby blues that fall on him and finally,  _ finally _ recognizes him.

“Well, hello there, sir,” Joey rasps, smiling slightly.

Daniel squeezes his hand. “Hey, mister.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI hello how are yall welcome to a three part side story! I will be posting one part per day leading up to Thursday, when thk officially kicks off (also my birthday lmao) so keep an eye out the next couple days!
> 
> this is a LOT of exposition so thank you for bearing with me while I get my shit together and give you guys the backstory you need to really delve into Endgame-verse XD hope you enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is much shorter thank god--
> 
> anyway, Daniel Preda circa season two!

They are by no means  _ okay. _

First of all, Joey’s yanked from his grasp that night, and Daniel doesn’t get to see him for a solid  _ week. _

He rages. He paces. He calls multiple people. He books a hotel room and camps out and refuses to leave until Joey is released. When he is, paired with Eva Gutowski—Oli White had been whisked from the hospital and spirited home the first chance his parents got—he looks haggard and combative. Daniel both wants to hold him and is afraid to touch him. Joey, apparently, doesn’t care. He walks out of the psychiatric wing and straight into Daniel’s chest, just resting his face there, clinging to Daniel’s shirt as he slowly brings his arms up to wrap around his boyfriend.

“You okay?” he murmurs into his fading pale blonde hair.

Joey nods into his chest, wordless grief in his shoulders and the curl of his fingers tangled in the material of Daniel’s shirt. A beat, and then he shakes his head, and his shoulders shake with sobs as Daniel stands there, arms full of Joey, staring over his head at Eva, who looks worn out.

“They’re all dead,” she says, voice cracking. “They’re all dead.”

-

Joey claims that he doesn’t remember what happened. “It’s a blur,” he’d told him quietly as they drove home—Eva hitching a ride, since they’re two hours from LA. She’s on the phone with Oli now, using Daniel’s, since neither of them had their phones on them when they returned.

Daniel has  _ several _ questions, but he can’t ask any of them. He knows damn well that Joey’s lying. Never mind that he knows his boyfriend like the back of his hand, he’d  _ been _ there. He’d seen Shane and Andrea’s bodies. He knows they’re dead. He knows the others are dead, too.

And yet somehow, three of them survived. Not only did they survive, but they  _ won. _

He remembers Shane’s warning, that Iridessa might be letting people die on purpose, and clenches his jaw, and his grip on the steering wheel. If she comes for them, he’ll fight her. He’ll lose, but he’ll fight.

Joey crashes again on the way home. Eva stays up, quiet, haggard, haunted. Her voice is soft and cracking as she directs him to her place. “You sure it’s still yours?” he mutters when he pulls up—it’s been a month after all, that’s what he’s been told, a month since eleven of them disappeared and only three came back.

But it turns out to be okay, apparently—Eva shakes Joey awake to say goodbye and then disappears into her apartment, almost like she’s running from them.

Joey stares out the window long after Daniel gets back onto the road. Daniel wants to say so many things to him, and can’t come up with a single one. He can’t tell him he knows what happened, because then he’ll have to explain why he was there, why he didn’t interfere when he should’ve. He’ll have to explain the Society and what they do and why Shane thinks they’re sketchy. He can’t say any of that. There could be consequences.

But it doesn’t seem to matter. Joey doesn’t want to talk. They get home—it’s still home—and get out and don’t even quite make it to the bed. They just collapse on the couch, Joey curled into his chest, Daniel pressing kisses to his hair, his forehead, as Joey begins to cry again.

And they fall asleep that way, because there will be plenty of time to talk later, but for now everything is finally right in the world again.

Even if none of it is.

-

It takes weeks, months. Daniel does his best to coax Joey from his depression, but this isn’t his area of expertise. Joey’s the sunny one, the sweet one, he’s the one with the cheer and the joy and the words. Daniel’s got nothing but two empty hands.

But he loves Joey. Even though he can feel him slipping away from him, he loves him. Even when he catches him sometimes wincing in some kind of phantom pain, but refuses to tell him what it is. Even as Joey snaps at him, pulls away from him, stops touching him. Stops talking to him.

“I just don’t know what I did,” he laments as he and Calliope trade blows. She flips a card towards him and he slices it out of the air, clean in two, before rolling and taking a swipe at her knee with the butt of his dagger.

She dances out of the way. “You know he just needs time, Daniel.”

“It’s been four months, Calliope—” He grunts as he goes to block her palm strike and misses, taking the pulled punch to the jaw. Blinking the stars from his eyes, he yanks his head away in time to dodge the backhand aimed at his face. Rolling to his feet, he says, “I thought we would be getting better by now, but we seem to be getting  _ worse.” _

They stand across from each other in the dojo, panting, Calliope looking him up and down with a pleased grin. “Well, you are getting better, at least.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Calliope sighs and sits on the matt, patting the spot next to her for him. Daniel joins her, the two sitting in companionable silence. He’s thrown himself into his training, mostly because he doesn’t have much else to do. Modeling doesn’t have the same appeal as it used to. Joey doesn’t seem as enamored by Youtube anymore, either. Trauma does that to a person.

He and Calliope have gotten close over the few months as she’d taken over his training for Jael—she and Ryu had been called by Iridessa on some special mission or another to the seventies, one Calliope is on standby for. She’s patient and kind, but she’s also a total badass. Her style is very based in improv, a direct contrast to Jael and Ryu’s traditional-based teachings.

As a result, Daniel himself is a bit wild, but his reflexes are good and he’s finally getting the hang of actually sparring. It’s good, burying himself in trying to make sure something like this never happens again, as opposed to staring across the dinner table at his boyfriend and feeling like somehow they’re further apart than ever.

He sighs himself, echoing her. “I know he needs time,” he admits. “I’m willing to give it to him. I’m just afraid…”

Calliope puts her hand on his. “Should he choose to go,” she says, gently, “let him.”

The hurt always so present at the base of his lungs stirs again. “But I love him.”

“You love him,” she agrees. “If distance is what is best for him, give it to him. Allow that space. He loves you too, child, I can hear it in your voice. He’ll return to you.”

“How do you know?”

She smiles at the way his voice cracks. “The stars told me.”

Daniel huffs a laugh. “Are you just bullshitting me?”

“I never bullshit when it comes to stars.”

“I just…” He sighs. “I just don’t know.”

“It’s faith, Daniel.” She pats his cheek, rising to her feet. “You’re not supposed to know.”

He watches her collect her weapons and exit, thinking that he’s never really been good at faith.

-

For two months, it does get better.

Though Joey seems wistful and distracted, he does come back to Daniel, and it makes everything worth it. Calliope leaves for Everlock and Daniel tells Iridessa he’s done, he’s going home, and he’s not coming back. The woman is cold, always cold, but she gives him her blessing. Something about the way her eyes follow him as he walks out of the church makes him think she knows he’ll be back.

Well he won’t, he promises himself. He and Joey settle back into their normal, everyday lives. Both try to forget about magic and the death of their friends. Both of them fail.

And then, as October inches into November, Joey disappears completely.

It’s so sudden. He’d been having nightmares, increasingly frequent and violent and leaving him whimpering and crying and shuddering in Daniel’s arms when he wakes, but aside from that there had been no warning. One day he was fine and the next, Daniel had come home from a shoot and he’d been gone. All of his stuff still strewn about their room, his toothbrush in the cup by the sink, his favorite foods in the fridge, his phone on the nightstand.

Gone. Days afterwards Daniel calls the police, magic be damned. “It looks like he just walked out,” they tell him, sounding apologetic. “Maybe this life got to be too much for him. It’s understandable.”

But Daniel doesn’t understand.

He goes back to the Society. Iridessa seems pleased to see him. But no, she says, she doesn’t know where Joey could’ve gone. She’s received no reports from her seekers of a possible game. It might not have anything to do with the Cursed God or his minions. “I’ll let you know if we hear anything,” she says, watching him, sounding perfectly sincere and yet like she’s lying. Daniel turns on his heel and marches out, almost bumping into one of the seekers he’s seen around sometimes—a petite little thing with lesbian-short, bleached blonde hair and a jetpack on her back. He ignores her wide eyes too, stalking past, wishing he had a door to slam behind him.

The community starts to take notice. He tells them he isn’t sure, that Joey might just be taking a break, to try not to worry. He’s sure he’s safe.

He isn’t sure at all. In fact, he doubts it.

-

But Daniel has had a lot of practice learning how to live life without Joey Graceffa in it. He wishes he didn’t, but he does.

A month goes by. Two months. Daniel lives on autopilot. He retreats from social media entirely, changes his number, discontinues Joey’s. He moves into a studio apartment and puts Joey’s stuff in a storage locker. He practices with his daggers when no one is looking. He barely eats anymore. He doesn’t talk to anyone.

January comes and goes. February begins and he ruminates on how it would be a year next week that he and Joey went public, and how they’d felt so terrified at the time and yet so on top of the world. They’d promised each other to support and to follow through thick and thin. Always. Forever.

Joey’s somewhere, out of his reach. He hopes to god he’s all right and knows in his heart that he isn’t.

February 20th and the world is rocked once again as creators go missing, all at once. Daniel had been with the Society the first time this happened, so he hadn’t gotten to see the immediate fallout, but this time he has a front row seat as people try and fail to find their beloved Youtubers. Daniel himself is shaken to his core as the announcement is made, the list of names released. Gabbie Hanna. Tyler Oakley— _ Tyler? Really? _ Liza Koshy. Alex and Lauren. So many more, friends of his, gone in a blink, the community panicking as it looks like once again history is repeating itself, almost exactly a year since the first slaughtering. Another one.

Daniel drops everything and heads for the Society.

-

“You can’t go.”

Daniel presses his lips together so he won’t snarl like he wants to. “Why  _ not?” _

Iridessa stares him down. “Once the game starts it cannot be interrupted,” she says firmly. “Besides that—”

“You just don’t like that I saved Oli by not putting the piranhas in the tank,” Daniel accuses her.

Her dark blue eyes flash like lightning. “Watchers are  _ not _ to interfere and I can’t trust you to follow that rule, Daniel, I just can’t.”

“If Joey—”

“You don’t know he’s involved,” she interrupts, and Daniel chokes on hurt and rage.

“Of course I do! It’s happening  _ again! _ Twice in as many years, how could you possibly say—”

“My decision is final, Daniel,” and it certainly sounds final. Her voice booms through the church, echoing off the high ceiling.

Daniel glares at her, shaking, feeling frustration pool hot tears in his eyes. He whirls on his heel and stomps out of the building, promising himself he won’t cry.

No, he’s not out of this yet.

-

He throws himself into training. He gets very fast with his daggers. He destroys a few things he probably shouldn’t have. All the while he hopes, hopes against hope that Joey will come home. He’d survived the last time without any Society members to guide him. He knows he can do it again.

_ And if he isn’t part of this slaughtering? _ asks that traitorous voice buried deep in Daniel’s chest.  _ If he just got sick of you and left? _

Shut up, he tells it, turning to throw his throwing knife at the target on the wall.

He releases the blade before he realizes that there’s a girl standing in front of him, and it whizzes by close enough to almost clip her ear. To her credit she doesn’t even flinch, just staring at him with soft blue-hazel eyes. The dagger buries itself deep into the target, just off of a bullseye.

It’s Jetpack Girl, one of the seekers. He doesn’t know her very well. She tends to bolt when she sees him, and he’s never been sure why. But now she stands at the entrance of the dojo, staring him down, mouth parted like she wants to say something.

Daniel lets the silence stretch as long as he can bear it before he says, “Can I help—”

“I don’t have a lot of time,” she cuts him off. “Joey’s dead. He dies in this game. I’m sorry.”

She’s gone before he can react. The breath leaves him utterly. His knees are weak. He sinks to the floor, processing this, processing and coming up completely empty. Dead. Died in the slaughtering. Dead. Gone. Didn’t even say goodbye. Gone. Just like the others. Gone.

Gone. Gone. Gone.

Gone.

-

He doesn’t know how long he sits there. His head feels like a warzone right now, but he’s strangely detached from it, just focusing on breathing, in and out. He wonders if he needs to breathe now that he’s immortal. Maybe if he just stopped—

A hand touches his knee. Daniel looks up, a bit slow in his reactions, at Jetpack Girl, who looks like if she prods him any harder he’ll fall to pieces. Well, maybe he will. Maybe that’d be preferable, honestly.

“Sorry, debriefing took a lot longer than I thought it would.” She looks hesitant, biting her lip. “Are… you okay?”

Daniel shakes his head. She says, “Oh,” and shuffles her feet, looking awkward. “I, uh—well, it’s kind of complicated—” 

He holds up a hand, stopping her in her tracks. “Tell me,” he says.

-

Her name is Jetpack Girl. It’s always been Jetpack Girl, and whatever name she’d had before that is dead to her now.

Daniel understands. He listens as she outlines her life living in the Victorian era, a hundred something years ago, how life was awful back then but it was bearable. She’d gotten a job as a tinkerer’s apprentice and that’s how she met Joey and the others.

“They definitely saved my life,” she murmurs, eyes distant. “Imagine my shock when the 21st century comes around and I get to see my old friends again, and as famous Youtubers, of all people.”

She couldn’t tell them that she’d been born in 1877, or that she knew them back then. She couldn’t tell them not to accept an invitation to a ball by Joey. She couldn’t tell them that she’d seen many of them die, and horrifically, and that their bodies will never be recovered.

“Joey, too,” she says quietly.

Daniel listens to the rest of it, but he doesn’t really hear it. He listens to how she and a girl named Riley had been picked up by the Society after escaping the mansion, about how they’d both been offered jobs and how Riley had turned hers down, just longing for a peaceful, quiet life. How Jetpack Girl had readily accepted, anything to get away from here, and how she’d been part of the SAE ever since. About how she’d known Shane, just a little, when he’d brought her into the fold of his secret little club he was mobilizing against Iridessa.

“I’ve been watching her,” she whispers. “I’ve seen how obsessed she gets over the people who survived. She thinks they might have magic.”

He frowns. “I would’ve known if Joey had magic.”

She shrugs. “There’s some prophecy or another that says with the return of the Leywalkers comes the beginning of the end of the world.”

“But—” Daniel stops himself. Is he really sure about that? He hasn’t seen Joey in months, but even before that, he’d seemed different. Closed off and in pain. He shakes his head. “There were only three of them, and there are six leylines without conduits.”

“Four survivors now,” says Jetpack Girl, holding up her fingers. “Five if you count Joey.”

“Joey’s dead.” His voice cracks when he says it.

She shakes her head. “That’s what I wanted to tell you about.”

She tells him that Tyler and Andrea—Andrea Russett, not Brooks, obviously—manage to defeat the Sorceress. That Joey had been  _ so close _ to surviving. And she tells him that when she had led the Society members to where they had enclosed him in a wooden coffin, he’d been gone.

“What do you mean gone?” he demands.

“Well, like I said, it’s complicated,” admits Jetpack Girl. “Apparently this happened in the slaughtering in the 20s, as well—all of their bodies disappeared. No one was recovered.”

_ The crystal will take care of them. _ Daniel jolts with the sudden memory. “Was it because of a crystal?”

“What crystal?”

“Never mind,” he mutters, keeping that in the back of his mind for later. “Anyway, why are you telling me this?”

“Because none of the other bodies were gone yet,” she says simply. “We watched them get whisked away, kinda like what happens when a Society member dies. If you’re marked with magic, you dissipate. Into light, basically, but it doesn’t happen right away. It goes in order of who died when.”

“And Joey was already gone.”

“Exactly.”

Daniel’s having a hard time wrapping his head around this. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’re his boyfriend and you deserved to know.” She bites her lip. “Also because… I think Shane was right. I think Iridessa isn’t telling us something, and I want to know what it is. I’m like… eighty percent sure Joey’s still alive. And I think she knows where he might be.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because he’s my friend.” She holds a hand out to him. “And now, so are you.”

He takes it and lets her hoist him to his feet. His hands are shaking. He’s been told a  _ lot _ of staggering information in a very short amount of time. But what he heard is that Joey’s still alive. Out there somewhere. Waiting for him to bring him home.

_ I’m coming, Joey, _ he thinks, remembering the last time he’d made that promise. It hadn’t ended very well for either of them. But this time will be different. He’ll go to wherever Joey is, whether he wants to see him or not. And he’ll bring them both home, safe and sound. And if Joey still doesn’t want him after that, he’ll listen to Calliope, let him go, let him move on with his life.

But until then…

_ I promise, I’m coming. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more to go!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel Preda circa season three + hil because go big or go home amiright
> 
> some of this information is different than hil bc I'm correcting as I go so just consider this New Hil Canon ok pls and thank u

Everlock, Pennsylvania. 1978.

It takes Daniel a moment to remember why he knows that name, and his heart sinks as he realizes.

“It’s where Jael, Ryu, and Calliope were sent,” Jetpack Girl confirms. “Some special mission or another from Iridessa, but—not a game, not that I know of.”

It takes some maneuvering, some sneaking, and a lot of close calls, but they eventually find out that the three had been sent to the city, forty years in the past, in order to retrieve stolen magic items of Iridessa’s: three crystals and a harp. What those items do exactly isn’t specified in the documents Daniel had stolen himself (desperate times, he’d tell the first person who asked), but they’re in the possession of one of the Cursed God’s generals—Nicholas, the Carnival Master.

“But why would Joey be there?” Daniel wants to know. He squints at the old map they’d had to dig up from decades ago—the only mention of Everlock they could find.

“Because right now, it exists in limbo.” Jetpack Girl points to the screen of his laptop, knee on his coffee table, fingering the tiny town almost dead center in the middle of the state. “Chalice magic basically preserves life, either through healing or, in this case, literally stopping time in order to prevent the destruction of the town. Iridessa lends out a lot more magic to warriors than, like, anybody else in the Society, so certain members—like Ryu and Jael and Calliope—have the ability to channel her magic. That’s why the town is impossible to find nowadays. It doesn’t exist in this place and time.”

Daniel rubs his forehead. “I don’t understand anything you’re saying, but what I’m gathering is we need to go to Everlock? In the seventies?”

Jetpack Girl hesitates. “Kinda.  _ You _ have to.”

“What?”

“Someone has to send you,” she insists, “and I’m a seeker, I’ve never been to a slaughtering that wasn’t my own before.”

“But—” His heart catches in his throat. “I can’t do this alone!”

“You won’t be alone. Calliope and Ryu and Jael will be there.”

He glares at her. “I’ve heard  _ that _ before.”

It’s a bit of a low blow—Shane was her friend too—but she glares back at him full force. “Do you want to save Joey or not?”

This all feels way too familiar. Daniel growls, but in the end, it isn’t even really a question. He sighs, running a rough hand through his hair. “Fine then,” he bites out. “When are we doing this?”

** **-** **

And that’s how they find themselves sneaking back onto Society grounds. Daniel’s in full drag, with ghost white makeup and a long, pin-straight wig to match. Jetpack Girl had gotten a kick out of Daniel’s preference for disguises like these, but agreed that he looks fabulous—not that he needs her validation, but it’s always nice to be recognized for his skill.

Getting in is no big thing, but he can’t help but worry. “JPG,” he hedges as she fiddles with the transportation crystal.

“I told you, “jetpack” is  _ one _ word, you can call me JG.”

“But those are Joey’s initials,” he protests, smirking a little, ‘cause this isn’t a new conversation. “Shane said that Iridessa can sense things that happen here on these grounds, she’ll know the second you send me to the seventies.”

“Probably,” she says with a shrug. “I’ll just tell her you made me do it.”

“Wow, thanks.”

She flashes a grin at him. “She already thinks you’re a delinquent.”

“Well, she’s right, so that’s fair.”

“Okay, I think I’ve got it.”

“You  _ think?” _

“I mean, Calliope makes this look so much easier than it is.” She gnaws on her lower lip. “No, yeah, I totally got it.”

Daniel furrows his brow. “Are you sure you—”

White light floods his vision. He gasps, reaching for—something, anything to hold onto, but it’s way too late, and with Jetpack Girl screaming his name echoing in his ears, Daniel is pulled from the Launch Room, disappearing in a breath of wispy white mist.

** **-** **

Luckily, he makes it. Unluckily, he more or less lands in the middle of a disco party made up entirely of clowns.

And clowns suck. Especially these clowns.

That’s all he has to say on that one.

** **-** **

Calliope is furious when she sees him again. Daniel’s never  _ seen _ Calliope angry before. She’s got a bit of ratchet in her, which is a  _ total _ surprise, and not fun to be on the receiving end of. Daniel had snuck out to try to find his fellow Society members and had run into Calliope by accident. It had taken her a moment to recognize him in his clown getup, but when she did she almost slugged him. Literally—only his honed reflexes saved his perfect face from her ringed fist.

“What are you doing here!” she shouts. “No, that’s not even my first question,  _ how _ did you get here—”

Daniel holds up both hands. “Jetpack Girl sent me.”

They’re on the outskirts of town, near the cemetery. In his boots he  _ towers _ over the other watcher, but the presence she holds—especially enraged like she is—makes him feel awfully small.

“I have bad news,” she says gravely. “Jael and Ryu are dead.”

“What?”

“They sacrificed themselves to preserve Everlock.” She pushes a hand through her dark curls. “There’s a way to save them, I think, but—”

“Is Joey here?” he blurts.

Calliope gives him a disapproving, hardened look. “The dead should stay dead, Daniel.”

“But we can bring Jael and Ryu back?” he demands. “What, are Society members exempt from that rule?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then  _ what?” _

“There are consequences for cheating,” she snaps. “Consequences like accelerating the revival of the Cursed God. If we take back a soul counted towards the lock keeping him contained…” Her eyes are black holes, the intensity of a thousand nebulas swirling in their dark depths. “There are  _ consequences,” _ she repeats.

Daniel sets his jaw. “I don’t care.”

“Stubborn child,” she says, but the anger’s gone, leaving only wistful fondness in its wake. “Come. I’ll explain everything.”

** **-** **

It’s… a lot of information.

Iridessa’s infused different items with her Chalice magic, to give her Society members an edge against the Cursed God’s lieutenants: three life crystals which, when used in tandem, keep members laced with its magic from dying permanently; and a harp, far more powerful, that can revive anyone of the musician’s choice.

“The harp only has one charge left, though,” Calliope explains, “the Carnival Master has used it for his own gains.”

Apparently the items were stolen decades ago during a slaughtering that had gone horribly, terribly wrong, and Iridessa’s been looking for them ever since. Naturally, when word of them traveled to her that they’d resurfaced in the seventies, she’d sent her best warriors to retrieve them.

“And I was sent after we lost contact with them,” Calliope finishes. “I arrived at the tail end of the battle. They went to fight with Nicholas, while I took care of the guardians.” She grows sad at the thought. “That was a year ago.”

“A  _ year?” _

“Yes. Jael and Ryu lost against Nicholas. In a desperate attempt to stall, Jael locked the town in limbo.” She smiles grimly. “There’s no way back until the Carnival Master is defeated. Which means you’re stuck here, too. That’s the bad news.”

“What’s the good news?”

“Time’s running out,” she says. “That’s why I’m here, observing the amber Nicholas is trapped in.”

Daniel feels like tearing his wig out.  _ “How _ is that good news?”

“Because that means there’s going to be a slaughtering.” Calliope takes a deep breath. “Jael told me that she promised Joey another chance at life if he instigated another game.”

His heart drops to his toes. He just… for a long time he just stares at her like she’d grown an extra head, and she gazes impassively back at him, waiting. For him to explode, most likely, but at the moment it feels like he’s been sucker punched and his lungs are forgetting how to breathe.

“You’re going to make him play the game again?” His voice comes out faint.

“Daniel—”

“What happens if he loses? If he dies?”

“The town dies too,” she says simply.

“The  _ whole damn town!” _

“It’s okay. Joey can pull it off.”

“By sacrificing more people!” He shoves a finger in her chest. “Be honest with me, Calliope. Is Iridessa purposefully letting people die so she can become more powerful?”

She hesitates. Too long. Daniel, blinded by rage, by betrayal and hurt and  _ panic, _ swivels on his platform heel and stalks away.

“Daniel,” she calls after him. “There’s one more thing you need to know.”

He debates ignoring her. He debates just running and living as a hermit in the woods for the rest of his unnatural life. He debates quitting and throwing the world’s biggest bitch fit.

Instead, he stops, doesn’t turn, grips his fists and takes a deep breath. Finally, he faces her.

“Tell me,” he says.

** **-** **

And in the end, he understands why Joey said yes.

He would’ve too, to be honest.

** **-** **

It takes another week. Time is weird here—too slow and sluggish and perpetually October. It’s almost like every day is the exact same, but with different things happening. It drives Daniel a little nuts. He feels for Calliope, who’s had to live a year like this.

The clowns are awful, to each other and to him. Daniel keeps his head down. He’s used to this.

When he sees Joey again, he almost isn’t prepared for it. He’d missed the initial raid, citing “bathroom break,” when the truth is he just refuses to participate in literal mass murder. But Joey finds his way into the disco anyway, looking ridiculous with his oversized white gloves and his bright red clown nose. His hair is dyed that pale blonde again, Fred Jones style, and when their eyes meet across the room, Daniel knows that this time, he recognizes him.

But Joey says nothing, moving with his friends—some of whom Daniel recognizes, Colleen being the biggest one—to do whatever business he’d come to do here. And Daniel continues to dance in place, unsure of what that look meant, unsure if he’s doing the right thing.

But goddamn, Joey looks good for a dead man.

** **-** **

The clowns all go up in literal smoke less than an hour later. Daniel sits himself down on the platform, gazing out the window at the stars, and he waits. He wonders if he should throw caution to the wind and just go save as many people as he can. He wonders if Calliope is okay. He wonders if Joey’s going to make it.

Something tells him he will. If this prophecy thing is true, Joey’s right smack in the center of it. He’ll come back to him. He knows he will.

Whether he’s still the same is up in the air. Honestly, deep inside, Daniel knows he isn’t. But that’s okay. Neither is he.

They’ll get through it together. They always do.

** **-** **

Morning comes faster than it should’ve, as is typical for things like this. Daniel makes his way outside, dressed now in seventies clothes he’d found in some poor sap’s house, wig carefully removed, face wiped clean of makeup. Joey’s waiting for him in the church, holding a big blue crystal and staring up at him as he opens the old doors and kneels next to him.

“You knew,” he says quietly. A statement, not a question. Daniel nods. “The whole time?”

“I couldn’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Joey breathes, and he holds his arms out so Daniel can pull him to his feet and into a hug.

And it’s Joey, despite everything. He even smells the same. And it’s been—god, a year, maybe more? But nothing’s changed, really. It’s still Joey, and he has the crystal, and he’s alive now, defying the stars with every atom in his body and Daniel couldn’t be prouder, or more in love.

He threads his fingers into Joey’s platinum blonde hair and murmurs in his ear, “Let’s go home.”

So they do.

** **-** **

Joey doesn’t want to be found, though, which causes quite a few problems when they do get home. They ghost all their friends and family—not all that hard, really, but Daniel still feels bad about it, especially when Matthew Patrick, a month after they get home, reaches out to him to tell him that Joey isn’t dead. It’s a kind gesture, and he doesn’t tell Joey about it, because Joey has enough guilt on his shoulders as it is.

Daniel doesn’t go back to the Society, but he does meet up with Jetpack Girl again. She tells him that Jael and Ryu had returned, which is news to him at least, but Calliope had died back in Everlock. Iridessa is  _ livid, _ apparently, but as far as he knows she won’t come after him, and that’s all he really cares about.

Meanwhile, recovery efforts are focused primarily on figuring out the crystal. Well, Joey’s are, at least—Daniel still has a job to do if he wants to keep the house and maintain appearances. Aside from his followers and a few of his closest friends, no one really noticed that he’d gone missing. But he’s been out of contact with a lot of people lately, and they’ve been giving him space as the months stretch on and on since Joey had slipped away from everyone who’s ever known him. He can’t tell them that he’s better now—that Joey’s returned from the dead, or wherever he’d been between that—but they don’t ask, and that makes it easier.

Mostly, though, they work on each other. The distance that had been so palpable between them is suddenly gone. They can’t get close enough. Joey worries every time Daniel leaves for a shoot, or for a grocery run. Daniel worries every time he has to shake Joey awake from a nightmare. He tells Joey that he might be part of a prophecy, that he might have magic, and Joey takes it in stride. They breathe. They ignore the world. They have each other, and that’s what matters. It’s the only thing that matters.

Joey practices his magic. He admits to Daniel that ever since he came back from the 20’s, he’d been able to see and hear ghosts. It’s part of the reason he’d withdrawn from Daniel—that and the evil coursing through his head wouldn’t leave him alone. Daniel figures he’s the Scythe, then—the death Leywalker. Joey’s lips twist at the irony like he’d tasted something sour, but he accepts it.

“You think the survivors are the new Leywalkers?” he asks.

“Iridessa thinks so,” Daniel admits. “It makes sense. We’ll just have to keep an eye out for when their magic manifests.”

Joey’s quiet for a moment. “But if Iridessa’s a Leywalker,” he says slowly, “then one of us isn’t, right? There’s only seven, and there’s seven of us. Eva, Oli, Tyler, Andrea, Nikita, and Matt. And me, obviously.”

“Someone got lucky,” Daniel muses. “Matt, I’m guessing, since he died.”

“So did I.”

“Yeah, but you’re the  _ Scythe, _ Joey, that was never gonna stick.”

Joey, who always darkens at the mention of his death, quirks a small smile this time. “You didn’t know that, though.”

Daniel pulls him in and presses a kiss to his hair. “Yeah I did,” he says, and that’s that on that.

-

A few months go by before the news of Andrea Russett’s outing hits. The two of them had been keeping a close eye on the survivors, waiting for them to discover their magic, and Daniel in particular had been following Andrea’s feud with the Psychic Twins.

“Oh my god,” he says the morning of, clapping a hand to his mouth as he scrolls down his twitter feed.

“What?” Joey asks, sitting across from him at the table.

“Andrea has a girlfriend.”

_ “What?” _

He turns his phone so Joey can see. Joey mimics his expression, bringing a hand to his mouth. “They  _ outed her? _ That’s awful!”

The backlash is incredible. There’s quite a few people defending Andrea’s right to privacy, a few more saying this whole thing is fake, and more still clamoring for Andrea’s cancellation. The Mystic herself has disappeared from social media altogether after the picture of her kissing a sweet-faced blonde girl had been posted by the Psychic Twins. Daniel’s heart breaks for them, stirring in empathetic fury at the idea of it. No one should have their coming out like that,  _ ever. _

“We should call her,” Joey says, a bit hesitant. “I mean,  _ you _ should call her, I guess?”

“Why me? We haven’t spoken in years.”

“Yeah but she needs a friend,” he murmurs, leaning his elbow on the table and placing his chin in his hands. “Besides, if she’s a Leywalker like we think she is…”

“You’re right,” Daniel realizes.

It takes some searching, since he has a new number now and Joey doesn’t even have his old phone, and honestly he wouldn’t be surprised if Andrea cut all ties and went to live in the woods after this whole thing blew up, but to his surprise, she answers on the first ring.

_ “I said no comment—” _

“Andrea, it’s me,” he says quickly before she can hang up again.

_ “Me who?” _

“Daniel. Preda?”

_ “Oh fuck. Daniel. Uh, hi?” _ Her voice is shaky and full of tears.  _ “Why… are you calling me?” _

He shoots a look at Joey, who’s waiting patiently with raised brows. “Heard about your, uh…”

_ “My clusterfuck?” _

“Yeah, that. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

She laughs. It’s a very bitter and broken laugh, and it’s one he’s heard before, because it’s the one that happens when your entire world is crashing down around you and if you don’t laugh you scream instead.  _ “Ask me tomorrow, if I’m not dead by then.” _

“Andrea—”

_ “I’m sorry, that was dark.” _ She takes a deep breath.  _ “How… how did your coming out go?” _

“Uh…”

_ “That bad, huh?” _

“Not as bad as yours, I’m guessing,” he says, sympathy in his voice.

_ “Yeah, it’s kinda shit, isn’t it?” _

“How you holding up?”

Another bitter, dry chuckle.  _ “I’m not? Sarah and I aren’t talking, Tyler isn't picking up and I can't even be mad about that, there's a lynch mob mobilizing and I think I'm going absolutely batshit insane—" _

He winces. "How did this happen?"

_ "I called out the Psychic Twins and they clapped back, I guess." _

"What'd they do?"

She sighs, heavy, like she can no longer hold the weight of the air in her lungs.  _ "It's a long story. I just called them fake, 'cause… just 'cause. I can tell." _

Daniel sends a suspicious glance in Joey's direction. "How could you tell?"

_ "Is there a point to this line of questioning?" _

"No," he says quickly, "no, no, I'm just… worried about you. Do you have anywhere to go?"

_ "Not really, no."  _ She sounds choked up again.  _ "Not in LA, anyway." _

"And Tyler isn't answering?"

_ "I don't blame him. I… kinda deserve it." _

There's a story there, but Daniel doesn't have the time or patience to hear it. "He's your partner," he tells her. "Whatever it is, I'm sure you'll get over it."

They hang up after promising to keep in touch and Daniel sits for a long moment, musing. It's weird for anyone to have beef with the Psychic Twins, but Andrea especially, who doesn't like to have public spats… she wouldn't have unless she was sure.

He sighs, turning to Joey. "I think Iridessa's right," he says. "The survivors are the Leywalkers."

Joey realizes where he's going with this. "And if the Leywalkers are returning…"

"So is the Cursed God." Daniel turns and heads to the study. "We gotta figure out that crystal."

** **-** **

Matthew Patrick is a  _ pain in the ass. _

Daniel feels bad about it because Matt's clearly going through some shit. The shadows under his eyes look more like bruises, he's noticeably thin, his hair is long and curling in a rather charming way that looks way different than the MatPat persona Daniel associates him with. He's not sure how he figured out that Joey's home and safe now, but he did, and every once in a while he shows up on their doorstep to see him.

At first Daniel tries to deny it. Then he does his best to deter the questions from the older man. "He's all right," he tells him, "he's recovering, he's fine."

"Can I see him?" Matt asks, anxious every time, but especially this time, in early October, more insistent than Daniel's ever seen him.

"Matt—"

"I just think this isn't over," he says, voice breaking.

Daniel stares at him. He pulls himself up. "Go home, Matt," he says, trying to be firm, trying to play the concerned, protective boyfriend. "Let it be done and move on. Everybody else has. Why can't you?"

It's cruel. It's a bit of a slap to the face, especially if the stricken expression on Matt's face is anything to go by as Daniel closes his front door in it.

"Matt knows," he tells Joey later that day.

"Of course he does," Joey mutters.

"Should we bring him in?"

There's a long, agonizing moment where Joey looks like he's genuinely considering it. Then he shakes his head. "He has a family," he says quietly. "Let him try to be normal, if we can help it."

Daniel thinks to himself that he doubts Matt's going to let it go. "Normal" isn't really achievable, not after what they've been through. Not anymore.

** **-** **

Daniel's right. Matt emails them two weeks later, both of them, outlining everything he's found out and asking again if they could meet.

He's  _ alarmingly _ close to the truth. Joey and Daniel exchange panicked glances as they compare their emails. Joey had gotten the full thing, Daniel an abbreviated, cautious version—just in case he hadn't known what was going on, he suspects—but in both versions it's clear that Matt has more than enough pieces to make a picture of this puzzle.

Unfortunately, neither of them are in the area. Daniel’s leaving for Everlock—new, restored, perfectly functioning Everlock that never went missing in the first place, and apparently only the people who’d been present for its time in limbo remember what happened—to try to catch up with Jael, who’d been sent to check the seals on the town’s leyline are holding. Meanwhile, Joey drives north to Portland, trying to intercept Ryu on whatever scouting mission the warrior is on. The plan is to pull them into the small group Shane had started to build, and to ask questions about the crystal Iridessa seems so keen on getting her hands on without letting them know they have it.

Daniel completes his goal fairly quickly, since he knows where Jael’s going to be. He finds her wandering around the town in a black cloak and hood that feels appropriate with Halloween rapidly approaching, keeping to the shadows of the town that seemed so retro a few months ago and now is a bustling suburb.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she tells him when he follows her to the cemetery—long overgrown and abandoned, the church on its grounds in ruins.

“I have questions,” he says, “and an offer.”

Jael shakes her head. “I can’t join you.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’ll know,” she says simply. “But I can answer your questions. Come. Fat Man Slims has excellent milkshakes.”

** **-** **

They  _ do _ have excellent milkshakes. Daniel sips his—he’d gone for plain vanilla, ‘cause he’s allowed to be a basic bitch sometimes—and listens as Jael tells him that Shane had approached her years ago with the same offer.

“But warriors have much more Chalice magic in them than the other Society members,” she says seriously as she slurps hers—chocolate banana, he thinks. “It’s the price we pay for magic of our own. As a result, Iridessa controls a lot of my actions. It’s much smarter to not get involved.”

“But you know what she’s doing,” Daniel probes.

Jael nods, solemn. “I’ve been an instrument for it many times.”

Daniel sighs. He knew he’d read Iridessa as shady the second he’d met her, but to go as far as to purposefully let people get murdered—for a  _ game— _

Jael puts her milkshake down and leans forward. “Joey kept the crystal, yes?”

“Yeah. We’re trying to figure out what we’re supposed to do with it,” Daniel admits.

“I can help you with that,” she says. “That crystal was made by syphoning the magic from the Harp of Lazarus. It’s another world, a pocket prison made to trap souls.” She taps the back of his hand, making sure he’s paying attention. “Your friends may have died in the Games, but they are still alive. It’s how we were able to get Joey to help us escape our own deaths. He’d never actually died. We intercepted his soul before he could get sucked into the crystal with the others.”

His breath catches. “How do we get them out?”

“I’m not sure,” she says with a frown. “Iridessa might know, but asking would be… tricky.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” Daniel murmurs, thinking. “Calliope said that if we took back a soul that counted as a sacrifice to whatever lock is keeping the Cursed God contained, it would accelerate his release. What did she mean by that?”

Jael sits back again and slurps her milkshake loudly through its straw. Finally she says, “The Cursed God is a chaotic being of unfathomable power, but he’s  _ bored. _ Everything he does is for the fun of it. He only agreed to be locked away because it’s a game, a game rigged in his favor. And as such in games, there are rules to be followed. Once he claims a soul as his, it’s his, and to take one back would be cheating. Cheat three times and he gets released, regardless of how many sacrifices he has.”

Daniel’s heart sinks. “So how are we supposed to save them?”

“Well now, that’s the trap isn’t it?” She finishes her shake and sets it down hard on the table, standing. “You have to decide whether it’s worth it. But the prophecy states that with the return of the Leywalkers comes the return of the Cursed God. He knows it, too. So you all better be ready. Whether you like it or not, this storm is coming.”

And she leaves him there with his melting milkshake, her ominous warning ringing in his ears like a tornado siren.

** **-** **

Joey had less luck than Daniel did, having not even found Ryu. That tracks, honestly. Ryu won’t be found if he doesn’t want to be. Unfortunately, that’s the least of their worries.

_ “They know about Matt?” _ Joey shrieks into the phone.

“Jetpack Girl says that Iridessa’s mobilizing a team to retrieve both him and Stephanie, and the baby,” he says, glancing around the airport to see if anyone’s listening in. Luckily, it’s late enough that no one really seems to be out and about.

_ “We can’t let them get to him,” _ Joey says in a panic.

“I know, babe,” Daniel soothes. “She’s meeting him Saturday, I think, she’ll be able to meet us back at the house.” He hadn’t gotten the email until late—mostly ‘cause no one but her (and Matt, on occasion, but only because he doesn’t have his number) ever emails him—and now he feels anxious, stranded on the other side of the country when Iridessa not only knows about Matt but is planning on bringing him in. If she gets to him first… Matt’s pretty smart, but Iridessa is manipulative and dangerous and he has little doubt that she’ll try to sway him to her side.

_ “I’m turning around,” _ Joey declares.

“Joey—”

_ “No, I don’t care. I’ll be there in, like, a day maybe.” _

It takes two days—Saturday night, in fact—and Daniel is waiting for him when he pulls in. “You need to sleep,” he tells him, pulling his exhausted boyfriend from their car and guiding him to bed.

“But Matt—”

“JPG’s got him,” he says, cutting him off. “I’m sure they’ll meet us here tomorrow. Please sleep, Joey, you just drove like twenty hours.”

Joey protests some more, but lets Daniel tuck him in. He falls asleep almost immediately. Daniel sits on the edge of the bed and watches him breathe, turning his attention to the window and frowning at the moon.

** **-** **

Because Jetpack Girl doesn’t meet them tomorrow, and neither does Matt. Joey paces as noon comes and goes, fretting.

“We should call him,” he says.

“I don’t have his number,” says Daniel.

“Then email him again!”

“Babe,” he says, stopping him on his next go around the kitchen island, “he’s fine. Even if Iridessa went to retrieve him, she won’t hurt him. She needs him for something.”

“What for?” Joey grumbles, pulling himself from Daniel’s grasp so he can pace again. “Why would she want to bring him into the Society? Why now?”

“Well, he’s smart,” Daniel says, shrugging. “And he’s onto her, we can tell that much. She probably thinks she can use him.”

“And if he refuses?”

Daniel sets his jaw. “It’s going to be okay,” he settles for, instead of voicing his own concerns.

Joey seems to hear it anyway, because he huffs a frustrated breath. “If we don’t hear from them by tonight, I’m going over there,” he tells him, “with or without you.”

That sounds fair, Daniel thinks.

Luckily—or maybe unluckily—they don’t even make it that far.

** **-** **

And it’s a damn good thing Daniel’s gotten so good at fighting. He just never thought he’d have to use his skills for real on other Society members.

Anyway, he’s really glad Jael and Ryu are out of town on their missions, because they’d kick his  _ ass. _

** **-** **

Matt turns out to be the blessing they needed, once they get him back from the Society, and Daniel’s kind of kicking himself for not bringing him in sooner. The three of them compare notes on the crystal, perusing Iridessa’s own studies of it (there’s no one in the church anymore to bar them from raiding the place, so they also have several magic weapons that only Daniel really knows how to use, among other things), and Matt’s the one who puts the pieces together.

“So she’d tried to make a ritual that would allow entry into the pocket dimension,” he says, the three of them poring over the crystal. “I think it might work? We just need a… like a password, basically, something that will activate it. Something personal to the Cursed God.”

“Evil?” Daniel guesses. “Chaos? Bad Guys Reign Supreme?”

Matt chuckles. “Probably something in Latin, since the ritual’s in Latin.”

Joey’s quiet for a moment. “What about  _ sanctum regnum?” _

The two turn to him and arch their eyebrows. He flushes a little. “It’s a long story, but… I think we might have talked to him. The Cursed God. During the second slaughtering, he’d asked for a password too, and that was what it was.”

Matt picks up the crystal, gazing into its frosty blue depths.  _ “Sanctum regnum,” _ he murmurs, and a small light flickers to life at its center. Nothing else happens besides that—they hadn’t done the ritual yet—but the newly christened Chalice grins at his friends.

“That’ll do it,” he says.

** **-** **

Daniel doesn’t  _ like _ this plan, but mostly because he still can’t get over Jael’s warning.  _ Is this worth it? _ he wonders as they set up their circle in the cemetery where their friends are not buried, because their bodies and souls were transported to an alternate dimension contained in a crystal. Matt said he’d encountered someone, a mysterious angel-like being, who’d told him the same thing. The crystal requires a price, a sacrifice.

“If the price is bringing back the Cursed God,” Joey had stated quietly when he’d brought it up, “that’s already happening. The prophecy says when the Leywalkers return, so will he. This is just… confirming that.”

Matt seems to agree, reluctantly. “If we do this right, he won’t even know we’re there,” he told him. “We’re not our predecessors. We can do this.”

Daniel disagrees, but while he can be a pessimist at heart, he’s not willing to snatch away Joey’s hope of getting his friends back.

He just hopes they can pull this off.

“Just be careful in there,” he says as Joey goes to take his seat in the circle.

Joey lingers long enough to kiss him. It’s a final kiss, a desperate one, full of thanks and love and promises and it feels awfully like a goodbye. It ends too soon, and then Joey’s sitting in the circle, Daniel’s hands on his shoulders and Jetpack Girl’s hands on Andrea’s. The two ex-Society members stand their ground, knowing they can’t break contact until the Leywalkers have retrieved their friends and brought them out.

He looks across the circle at Jetpack Girl, and she grins fiercely back at him, looking far more modern in her lensless glasses and knit beanie.

_ “Sanctum regnum,” _ says Tyler.

And everything goes horribly, terribly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you GUYS this chapter gave me SO MUCH TROUBLE I'm sorry it's so long, holy shit, I just could not find a place to stop it and then I was like you know what fuck it let's just cover the whole damn thing 'cause that's not exhausting at all huh
> 
> oml. seriously. I'm so sorry about the wait. I also got promoted and moved to full time at my job so I've just been massively busy T_T but it's done, finally! and I can work on thk! :o I can't guarantee I'll have that out by Thursday but I'm gonna do my best!!
> 
> anyway I hope you enjoyed this little look into Daniel's head! no worries, he'll be back (probably...)
> 
> love ya!


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